


Harrison Swells (Harrisco Fest 2018 Prompt Fill)

by Android_And_Ale



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Escort Harry, M/M, No Sex, harrisco, harriscofest 2018, prompt: Harrison Swells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 02:45:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15524337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Android_And_Ale/pseuds/Android_And_Ale
Summary: Cisco staggered back a step. “Holy Hannah, it’s really you.”“Who were you expecting?” Dr. Wells raised an eyebrow.Cisco stared down at his shoes. Over at the table. Through the nearby glass door. Anywhere but Dr. Wells face. The shockingly unexpected actual face of Harrison Fucking Wells. “A good impersonator who loves bad puns?”“Ah. That was Tina’s idea,” Dr. Wells mouth pulled into a tight, thin line as he chuckled at the memory.Cisco gaped. “Dr. Christina McGee of Mercury Labs suggested you call yourself Doctor Harrison Swells?”





	Harrison Swells (Harrisco Fest 2018 Prompt Fill)

Cisco swallowed hard. He had to give the guy credit. From this angle that long, lean frame in a well tailored grey suit really could belong to his former boss. He had the posture, the attitude, even the floof of chestnut curls. 

He was everything the website promised. 

“Excuse me.” Cisco wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. They slid from his jacket pockets over his hips and into a parade rest clasped behind his back. “I believe I’m your 4:30 meeting.” 

“You’re unusually prompt, Mr. Ramon.” Harrison Wells tucked his phone into a pocket and turned around. He gave Cisco a quick, appreciative look, pausing dramatically below the belt.

Cisco staggered back a step. “Holy Hannah, it’s really you.” 

“Who were you expecting?” Dr. Wells raised an eyebrow. 

Cisco stared down at his shoes. Over at the table. Through the nearby glass door. Anywhere but Dr. Wells face. The shockingly unexpected actual face of Harrison Fucking Wells. “A good impersonator who loves bad puns?”

“Ah. That was Tina’s idea,” Dr. Wells mouth pulled into a tight, thin line as he chuckled at the memory.

Cisco gaped. “Dr. Christina McGee of Mercury Labs suggested you call yourself Doctor Harrison Swells?” 

“Sit.” Dr. Wells pointed at an overstuffed chair that made Cisco feel like a big boy kicking his heels in Papi’s recliner.

Dr. Wells took a deep breath. He looked indulgently bored as he recited a speech Cisco could tell he’d given plenty of earlier clients. An unexpected hint of jealousy stirred in his belly. 

“I’m not insolvent,” said Dr. Wells. “Not even close. But Tinder, Grinder, and the rest are full of bad journalists and worse gold diggers. This lets me get all the sex I need on my own terms with an intelligent, scientifically minded clientele that has zero expectations beyond an orgasm or two. Honestly, if I realized how well this would work I would’ve set up my own ‘parody’ escort website years before the particle accelerator explosion.”

Cisco realized his mouth was open. He propped a fist under his chin to keep it closed. “Really?”

Dr. Wells smile almost bordered on a leer. “You’re here.”

Cisco gulped hard. He expected a few hours of feeling exceptionally smart around a good Wells impersonator - a night that would raise his ego as high as it did his libedo. He did not expect to meet his actual former employer, in the same suit he’d worn during press conferences with thousands of attendees from hundreds of nations. 

“You were rather coy online,” Dr. Wells interrupted his reverie. “So Tell me, Mr. Ramon. What do you want from me?”

Cisco’s mouth went dry. He reached for a narrow glass resting on the table between them and discovered that instead of water it was a gin and tonic with lime. His hand moved to set Dr. Wells drink back down, but after a beat he drained the whole thing and awkwardly chewed some ice. 

“I want,” Cisco began. “I want it to seem spontaneous. Like you really want me.” 

Dr. Wells watched him with the same intensity he had before Cisco proposed expanding their research into CFL Quark Matter. Cisco stared down at his own lap. Bad idea. He looked away, suddenly fascinated by birds outside the hotel lobby’s massive glass entrance. Without looking back at Dr. Wells, he lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. “And now I want to go to the bar and text you. In detail. It’ll be more,” he swallowed hard, “Honest?” 

Dr. Wells pulled a pen from his jacket pocket and wrote his number on a cocktail napkin. He silently pushed it over to Cisco. 

Cisco stared at the napkin for a moment. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton balls. He chewed another couple ice cubes, risked a quick glance at the gently smiling Dr. Wells, then crumpled the napkin in his hand and walked to the bar. This wasn’t at all what he expected, but to his chagrined surprise, he was about to get what he really wanted. 

 


End file.
